Imagine ...
the whole universe
cupped in a hand,
sparkling and clear.
It is bright
in the night of the mind,
pregnant and gently expanding.
Infinite.
Thought explodes.
The devils root
rose from the earth
laughing clouds
of sounds
made from the sky crying
red and silver,
mixing the light
of day and night
in storms of stars
and spinning moons,
with the sun burning
in its own heat
and the universe
coolly looking on
at its own destruction,
then blaming the unknown.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem